


champagne glasses

by from a forgotten time (retweet_this)



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c., Pundit & Broadcast Journalist RPF (US), Real Person Fiction
Genre: Apocalyptic Themes, Building a Government From the Ground Up, F/M, Falling in love at the end of the world, Families of Choice, Fugitive Road Trips, Gen, M/M, The Revolution Will Be Televised, some suspension of disbelief
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-01 17:51:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11491539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retweet_this/pseuds/from%20a%20forgotten%20time
Summary: All anyone really needs is someone to tell them that everything is going to be okay. Especially if it won't be.





	1. Chapter 1

The car pulls up at his house a little before two am. Jim emailed that he’d show up at twelve, left a note saying ten, and then whispered in Jake’s ear during lunch yesterday that he’d show up at four am. So, of course, he showed up before then.

Jake is ready, though. He’s been packed since forever, been counting down the hours and the minutes and the seconds, until he would be… rescued, really. There’s no other word for it. This is a rescue, an escape in the dead of night before anyone can know they’re gone.

His heart thunders in his chest while he pulls his bag over his shoulder, walking to the door. He locks it behind him and, after a brief moment of hesitation, drops the keys in the street. They land by a gutter, soon to be pushed by the running currents and down into the sewers below. It’s less of the action itself – anyone can get into the house if they tried hard enough, and even if they didn’t – but more of the metaphor behind it.

He’s never coming back here. Ever again.

Jim rolls down his window and gestures Jake over. “Got everything you need?” he asks. “That’s a tiny bag you’ve got there.”

Jake shrugs. “You said pack light.” He looks past him and into the passenger seat, inclining his head. “Hey, Dana.”

“Hey, Jake,” she says. There’s a smile on her lips but a deep exhaustion in her eyes – in both their eyes, actually. Lines on their faces and a sadness to their demeanor, but she smiles when she says, “You could’ve sat here but I called shotgun.”

“That’s all right,” Jake replies, chuckling lightly. “I can just lounge around in the back.” He opens the backseat and climbs in, throwing his bag into the empty seat beside him and setting his feet on top of it. His back is pressed against the handle but he doesn’t really mind it. He’s got to get used to not minding things.

Milk in bags, the metric system, people speaking in French… it’s actually a little funny if he thinks about it that way, and not in any sort of serious capacity.

“Get comfy, but not too comfy,” Jim warns. He starts backing up the car, mouth pressed into a thin line. “We’ll be switching off in about, what, four hours? Whole trip should take about nine, maybe a little less if we can push it.”

Streetlights glare in through the sunroof as they get on the main road. Jake can still see them when he closes his eyes, black, then a flash of bright red, then black again. He thinks he hears Dana say something but he’s not sure what, not sure because his eyes are shut and his brain is shutting off and he wonders when he’ll wake.

_ Maybe this is all a dream _ . Oh, for fuck’s sake, that’s a stupid thing to think, especially now, when it’s all finally happening. When, in a couple of hours, he will no longer be in America. He might never be back in America.

There might not even be an America to come back to.

He should really get to sleep.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Jim’s ringtone wakes him up. His eyes open and for a split second, he forgets where he is. But then he sees the streetlamps and hears the steady rumble of the car and he remembers.

He sits up just as Jim takes a hand off the wheel and presses his phone to his ear. “Hello?” he says, eyes still on the road. In the seat beside him, Dana has her head leaned back and her lips parted, still fast asleep.

Jake rubs the sleep out of his eyes and blinks a few times as he listens to Jim’s side of whatever conversation he’s having.

“Yeah, we just left,” he says. “Yeah… yeah, no, I heard… I mean, it wouldn’t be too hard, we can reroute through Baltimore and meet you somewhere in the city… Yeah, what time?” His eyes lift up to the rearview mirror and meet Jake’s. “Jake, write this down.”

It takes a few seconds for Jake to realize that he’s the one being spoken to now and he fumbles for his phone, scribbling down Jim’s words dutifully. He waits until Jim has hung up to read them over and raises a brow. “We’re heading to New York?”

“Yeah,” Jim says. “You know where that diner is?”

Jake takes a look at the address again, narrowing his eyes and trying to get his sleep-addled brain to work. “Uh, no, actually, but I got a good guess.”

“That’s good enough.” He reaches up to adjust the mirror again, attention back on the road. “You can go back to sleep, I’ll wake you when we’re closer. No point in staying up right now.”

“No, not really,” Jake agrees. He doesn’t go to sleep, though. He rests his head against the window and stares outside. Cars pass by, occasionally, and wouldn’t it be interesting to know where they’re going, what they’re doing, who they are.

Oh, maybe he should go back to sleep before he starts waxing poetic. He settles back into his seat and he’s about to close his eyes when Jim suddenly clears his throat.

“Hey,” he says, quietly, “have you… spoken with her?”

There’s only one ‘her’ he could be referring to and the thought pains Jake’s chest. He takes a slow breath before he answers. “No. They, um, they didn’t want to risk it. Not until I’m over the border.”

“I get that.” Jim doesn’t say anything else and neither does Jake and the rest of the night goes by in silence.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


It’s still dark when they finally get into the city and they nearly get lost, too, through all the traffic and the nighttime haze, but luckily Dana points out the diner and Jim makes the turn. There are a couple of other cars parked in the lot but only one of them has Lawrence O’Donnell standing outside it, arms crossed and standing straight as they pull up right beside him.

Jim rolls down the driver’s window and sticks his head out. “Nice van.”

Lawrence smirks. “It’s all yours,” he says, and he throws Jim the keys. He barely stops them from slipping through his fingers. “You don’t have that many things, do you?”

“Just some stuff in the back, I’ll get it out.” He unlocks the doors and then they’re all stepping out into the cool morning air. Jake grabs his bag and walks over to Lawrence, holding out his hand.

He doesn’t take it, nodding instead. “Nice to see you, Tapper,” he hums. “I’m surprised you’re still here.”

“I’m surprised you’re here too,” Jake replies smoothly and he shoves his hand back into his pocket. He’s not feeling embarrassed at all, he gets it. Things aren’t the same as they used to be.

“Someone’s got to stay.” He shakes his head, his chuckle humorless as he looks over to the van, and Jake can make out two faint forms in the furthest backseat. “Rachel kept wanting to be the one. You know how she is, stubborn to a fault.”

“I know,” Jake says, even though he really doesn’t. He watches Dana pull open the door and climb into one of the seats, crossing her legs and trying to settle in. He looks back at Lawrence and he wonders if he should ask anything else. He feels like he should, feels like there is something he needs to say that, if left unsaid, might haunt him forever because who knows when they’ll meet again. If they’ll meet again.

And then Lawrence says, “I think Ari and Jim are done with the luggage. You should get in, before you’re left behind.” He reaches out and squeezes Jake’s shoulder, very briefly, and walks away without another word.

Jake sits down and slides the door closed. He turns around, looking in the backseat to see Rachel and Katy, sitting comfortably but also, a little uncomfortable, a little strained. Katy looks tired, eyes still crusted with sleep, but Rachel seems wide awake. She gives Jake a grimace and he returns one in kind.

Jim and Ari climb into the front a few moments later, buckling in and pulling out a map. “You know how to get there?” Jim asks.

“Yeah,” Ari says. “We got an intern to print out directions from the library. Just get on to the road and I’ll lead you from there.”

“All right.” Jim grabs the passenger seat as he backs out, then says, with the slightest of chuckles, “You added a breakfast stop in there, right?”

“We’ll be grabbing breakfast at the first Tim Horton’s we see.”

They’re the only ones who laugh. Jake wishes he could laugh with them but he kind of just feels drained, exhausted, unable to do anything but just sit there and wait for everything to finally be over.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The ride is eerily quiet. Ari sometimes turns the radio on, fumbling for a signal, scrolling through all the stations before inevitably giving up. Jake wonders if he could convince him to put on some rap station, but he’s not sure if anyone else would appreciate the music. He’s not even sure if he himself would appreciate the music.

Dana does her nails. He doesn’t know how she does it, but somehow, she manages to paint every single nail on her fingers without spilling a drop – and they’ve hit a few rocky bumps in the past couple of hours. She’s moved onto her toes now, balancing her foot in her lap and expertly maneuvering her hands.

He keeps meaning to ask her how she’s doing that but he never is able to get the words out, not really.

Katy’s reading, but he only knows this because she gave him one of her books at some point. “I have my Kindle,” she explains, “but I thought, you know, best to have a real book just in case.”

“I should’ve thought of that,” Jake says. He takes the boom from her hands and smiles. “Thanks. I, uh, might’ve gone crazy if I didn’t have something to do.”

“No problem.” She moves back, headphones already in as she turns her Kindle back on and starts reading again.

Rachel still hasn’t said anything. Everyone’s said a little something this whole trip but so far, Rachel has been silent, just staring out the window and shifting her phone from hand to hand. Jake has a feeling it has something to do with the fact that Lawrence made her leave – New York was her city, MSNBC was her home, her crew was her family – and now, all that’s gone. She didn’t even get a say in it.

For a second, just a second, Jake thinks about his crew and wherever they might be now. It’s a second too long and he really regrets thinking it. He shakes his head and opens the book and tries to get lost.

He’s not wearing his glasses right now so he has to hold the book at a distance, squinting down at the words until he can make sense of the letters, and Jim opens his window at one point and the wind starts turning the pages if he doesn’t hold on tightly. But he’s not upset by any of this.

It’s actually kind of quaint. Here he is, on the way to what’s going to be the rest of his life, and he’s reading a book about… okay, fine, he hasn’t been reading at all this whole time because the pages keep moving and he doesn’t want to keep squinting and damn, he should just pull them out but fuck, he doesn’t want to.

He doesn’t actually want to read. He doesn’t want to get lost. He wants to go home.

The book falls shut and Jim hums a little under his breath and Jake just stares out the window.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The first words out of Rachel’s mouth, for the entire duration of the trip up to this point, are, “Pull over.”

“What do you mean, pull over?” Jim asks. “We’re almost at the border. Can it wait?”

Her next words bring a chill to Jake’s spine and, for years to come, he will wish she’d never said them at all. He’ll wish she could take them back, could undo the damage they’d done, but she says them and that’s what happens.

“We’re can’t go to the border.”

Jim pulls over. Everyone in the car is silent, and everyone is turned around to face Rachel. She’s looking back at all of them and there’s this immense sadness in her eyes and Jake wants to look away but he can’t.

Rachel looks down at her phone, then looks back up and clears her throat. “As of this morning,” she says, slowly, “Canada’s borders are closed. They’ll start issuing tourist visas within the next few months but for now… they’re completely shut down from the United States.”

There’s a silence, and then Jim punches the wheel. The horn is brief but loud and Jake physically jolts but Jim, he doesn’t move. Jake can’t see his face but he can feel his pain. It hasn’t quite sunk in yet but he knows it’s going to and it’s going to suffocate him and he won’t be able to breathe and he – 

“There’s a motel up on the next exit,” Ari says. He folds up the directions and sticks them in the glove compartment. “We can go there and… and plan our next move.” He pauses. “Do you want me to…”

“I can drive,” Jim says, abrupt and curt. He starts up the car again and they drive.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


No one cries.

That might be the strangest thing. No one cries.

They’re all human and they’re all adults but Jake honestly cannot believe that they’re all sitting here and not a single one of them has shed a tear yet.

He’s not going to see his family. He is not going to be able to see his children. He is not going to be able to see his wife. Fuck, he won’t even get to see his dogs and, fuck, why can’t he cry?

The motel room they got is small and cramped, only two rooms, paid for in cash, no questions asked. That’s the good thing about motels. The bad thing is, well, everything else about motels. There’s only two beds and no one is willing to sleep under the sheets. Hell, they’re wary even about sleeping over the sheets. Two of them are likely going to have to sleep on the chairs or the floor.

None of them have done anything yet. Jim’s pacing around, front and back, between the two beds. Ari’s leaning against the wall and his eyes are following him around, slowly but surely, otherwise completely still.

The rest of them just sit around the room and watch them both. No one’s doing anything. No one’s done anything. Jake wonders if he should be the first to speak.

He waits a second longer, then Jim finally stops walking. “We have to get out of here as soon as possible,” he says, “and we have to leave our phones behind. Computers too, maybe.”

“I have Signal on my iPad,” Rachel says. She’s sitting on the other desk chair, legs crossed and leaning forward. “We should keep that, at least, especially if we want to contact someone. It’s the only reason we even knew about the border changes – if we’d gone forward, they would’ve stopped us right there and had us arrested.”

“They’re probably on our way to arrest us right now,” Jim counters. “They know we’re here, they know we were trying to escape, and they’ve probably started watching us. We have to get out of here and try to shake the tail, at least, to the best of our abilities.”

“Jim’s got a point,” Ari says, slowly. “We’ll keep the iPad but leave the rest. But we won’t be able to use it unless we’re in a place with public wi-fi, or you know, they’ll be able to track our IP address.”

“I saw a library on the way here,” Dana pipes up from the corner. “Public libraries are great for things like this, lots of internet users and it’s hard to pinpoint one exact person. And we’ll be able to get directions to wherever we’re heading next.” She looks around the room, at all of them, expectantly. “Someone has a backup plan, right? Someone knows what we’re doing next?”

Jim scratches his chin. “We should go to Miami,” he says after a moment. “It’s a longshot, but if I can get in touch with my contact, there’s a good chance we can be in Cuba by Friday.”

“Cuba’s far from a perfect solution,” Katy says. Her fingers drum on one of the pillows, no sound coming out. “But it’s better than nothing. How fast can you arrange something?”

“It depends on how fast he gets back to me,” Jim replies. He looks at Rachel and she hands him her iPad, and he sits down on the bed, hard at work.

“Moment you’re done, we’re heading out,” Ari says. “I don’t know how far south we can head before nightfall, but –”

“We don’t leave the city yet,” Jake says. He looks up at Ari and Ari looks down at him, all the way from across the room. “There’s a chance they’ll be expecting that. We get out, make it look like we’re leaving, and park it in a hotel near the outskirts of town. We probably shouldn’t go anywhere unless we have a definitive plan.”

Ari nods along, unargumentative, but it’s clear that he’d prefer it if they’d left right now. Jake stands up and crosses his arms. “We have to plan this out very carefully. We’re all very prolific people – especially me, Rachel, Katy, and Jim – so the first thing we should do is…” He stops, then shakes his head. “No, the first thing we should do is go to the nearest ATM and withdraw as much cash as we can.”

Katy raises a brow. “All at once? Wouldn’t that be suspicious?”

“If we’re working under the assumption that they’re already here, then it wouldn’t raise any red flags,” Dana tells her.

“Although…” Rachel trails off for a second, then comes back. “If they know we’re on the run, there is a chance that they might try to freeze our assets as soon as possible.”

_ Shit. _ Jake runs a hand through his hair. “You’re right,” he says, urgency clear as day in his tone. “Okay, we get that money out now and then we head to the next hotel. We’ll continue planning then.” He looks over at the bed again. “Jim?”

“Just sent.” He tucks the iPad under his arm and gets to his feet, already walking for the door. “Let’s go.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


They can only drive during the day, so they have to spend the night there anyway, in par with the plan they’d all agreed on. There are still only two beds but the ground looks a lot comfier now so Jake doesn’t think he’d mind sleeping there. 

Except, Rachel and Jim seemed to have claimed the space while he wasn’t looking. They’re sitting together, cross-legged on a plain sheet, piles of money between them as they calculate the budget. If he didn’t know any better, Jake would think it was just a really weird game of poker.

“We should only stay in motels and we should try to limit how many times we stop on the road,” Rachel says as he walks over to them. “Saves us money, which, well… this is all our money. I don’t know the next time we’ll be able to withdraw anything.”

“Can’t we splurge a  _ little _ on lodging?” Jim asks. “I mean, I don’t know about you, but I don’t think I can sleep on the floor of a motel every single night.”

From the bathroom, Katy laughs and she sticks her head out, toothbrush in her hand. “Jim, you  _ volunteered _ to sleep on the floor.”

Jim rolls his eyes. “Yeah, but that’s just because I wanted to be gentlemanly.”

“Not very gentlemanly to complain,” Rachel mumbles, laughing when Jim pretends to throw a wad of cash at her. Jake shakes his head and, for a second, everything feels almost fine. Almost.

Ari and Dana come in a couple of minutes later, couple of bags in their hands which they plop down right by the door. Dana keeps walking and hands Rachel her iPad. “We got an address,” she says, “and we’ve got a route planned out. Eight in the morning, we head for Charlotte, spend the night there, then head straight to Miami.” She pauses, as though she has something more to say, but turns to Ari.

He presses his lips together in a thin line, sitting down and crossing his legs, waiting a few moments before finally speaking. “Apparently, several arrests were made on the Canadian border this morning of journalists charged with conspiracy. I checked but they didn’t nothing I saw explained anything further.”

“Oh,” Jake says, because that’s his first reaction. “Did they list any names?”

Ari is silent, as Dana gestures to the iPad. “We, uh, took a couple of screenshots of the article, but they didn’t say,” she explains. “I mean, they’re probably talking about it on Fox, but…”

“But we don’t need that extra stress in our lives right now,” Rachel finishes for her. She leans her back against the wall and starts tapping the screen, as Jim packs away the money. He stretches out his legs, long and uncovered by the shorts he’d changed into, and moves toward the door.

He reaches into a bag and throws a packet of chips, and Jake barely fumbles with the catch.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


He wakes up in the middle of the night, and there are a few things he’s acutely aware of. One, he’s not the only person who’s awake and two, whoever else is awake is crying.

There’s a faint light coming from the bathroom and the clear sound of someone sniffling, stifling soft sobs, but that’s all he can tell from staring across at the wall and watching the shadows stretch out. But he can’t tell who it is – aside from himself and Ari, who’s splayed on the other side of their bed and still tugging at the blanket.

Jake could turn his head. He could easily find out who this person is but, well… what good would that do? He shouldn’t do it, of course he shouldn’t. Whoever this is, they deserve their privacy.

And he really can’t say anything because his cheeks feel a little wet and he can’t remember whatever it was he’d been dreaming about.

The sink turns on and Jake closes his eyes again.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Ari says he’ll take the first five hours of driving and Rachel calls shotgun for navigation. Dana and Katy take the upper two seats while Jim and Jake take the back. He crosses his legs and leans back, resting his head against this arm and he’s just about to ask Katy if he could borrow that book again, when she turns her head.

“Have any of you been able to talk to your families yet?” she asks.

Jake shakes his head. “I didn’t want to risk it, what with all the scrutiny on me when they left,” he says. His voice is quiet all of a sudden, even though he didn’t intend for it, but it makes sense. Something like this, you can’t help but sound a little… sad.

His theory is only proven when Jim speaks next, strained and soft. “A little when they first moved there,” he says, “but I had to toss my phone early. I haven’t heard from them since.” He gives Katy a hapless shrug.

“I actually talked with Jonah right before we left. John called me using Signal and we talked, all three of us, together,” Dana admits. She stops, then shakes her head. “I can’t believe it was only two days ago. It… feels like it was a forever ago when we thought we could just… head on over to Canada.”

“Yeah,” Jim nods, slowly, quietly. “Yeah.”

And it clicks for Jake, all of a sudden, about what happened last night. About who might’ve been in the bathroom. And his mouth opens and he thinks he’s going to say something about it but then Jim says, “Since we’re heading to Cuba now, do you wanna practice Spanish, Katy?”

“Yeah,” Katy hums. “I’m a little bit rusty so I think I’ll need the practice.” They both chuckle a little, diving right into it and Jake is left just listening. He listens anyway and the words roll over him, Jim’s voice rough and Katy’s voice edged but it sounds a little different in Spanish. He wonders what they’re saying, if it’s even anything of substance. He keeps listening.

Five hours go by surprisingly fast, even during the idle moments. He manages to get Katy’s book at one point and this time, he remembered to have his glasses on hand. Jim kicks off his shoes stares out the tiny window, sometimes making conversation with Dana or Katy, sometimes not. Rachel puts on the station formerly for NPR, maybe on accident or maybe not, and then shuts it off when she’s met only with static.

Five hours go by fast, and then they pull into a gas station. It’s not particularly full or particularly empty, but Rachel pulls on a baseball cap, keeping her head low while Ari gets out to refuel the car. Jim’s pulling on his shoes and unbuckling his belt and Jake says, “I can drive if you’re tired.”

Jim looks at him, idle smile playing on his lips. “It’s fine,” he says. “Besides, if we get stopped, you’ll be immediately recognized, and we can’t let that happen.” He brushes back his hair and puts on his sunglasses and gets out as Ari opens the backdoor.

He settles into Jim’s vacated seat, giving Jake a tired grimace before rubbing his eyes and letting out a slow breath. “Five more hours,” he mumbles quietly. “And then we have to find a vacant motel.”

“There are always vacant motels,” Jake says. It’s meant to be a joke but it sounds like odd sage advice and he thinks he sees Dana stifle a chuckle. She shakes her head and stretches out her legs.

They leave the station and Rachel tries the radio again.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The first thing Jim does when they open the motel room door is collapse on the bed. The first thing Ari does is take off his shoes, and then he does the same thing.

“What I need right now, more than anything,” Jim mumbles into the pillow, “is a bottle of wine and a full body massage.”

“Hard same,” Ari says. He’s lying on his back, hands behind his head, looking up at the ceiling. “Do we have anything to eat?”

“We finished it all in the car,” Dana tells him. She stretches out her legs and rolls her neck. Jake never really realized how different she looks, tired, without makeup, without proper rest. He wonders what everyone else sees when they see him.

“I saw a vending machine in the hallway,” Rachel says. “Jake and I can grab something.”

Immediately, Jim flips around and sits up, eyes wide and pain masked by naked surprise. “You guys can’t go.”

Rachel rolls her eyes. “Jim, we singlehandedly developed this whole plan to get down to Miami in time to meet your man. I think between the two of us, we’re smart enough not to get caught.” She gestures Jake along, grabbing one of the cardkeys from the table as she opens the door.

Jake gives Jim a sympathetic grimace, pulling on his glasses before turning and following Rachel. He shoves a hand in his pocket and sighs. “It’s really nice to walk after so long.”

“You’re telling me,” Rachel chuckles humorlessly. She scratches a little under her hat. “I wish we could have real food for once, instead of stopping at a drive-thru McDonald’s and eating some sad pieces of meat.”

“Maybe in Miami we can get Jim’s contact to feed us some Cuban food,” Jake suggests, and the mere thought makes his stomach rumble a little. He bets Jim would know some great places – he’s always talking about it, whenever he comes back from his trips down south.

“Maybe,” she hums.

No one’s by the vending machine but they still act quickly, facing away from the hallway and trying to silently decide between Doritos and Lays. And then, someone walks over and starts using the ice machine.

Rachel, in the middle of typing a code, stops momentarily, but Jake gives her a gentle look and she finishes. The noise is acutely loud this time, especially with the rumble of the ice behind them. He bends down and pulls out the packet and they’re all but ready to walk away when, of course – 

“Don’t turn around.” It’s from the man behind them. “Put in a few more codes. Deliberate a while longer. One to two snacks should be enough.”

This time Jake is the one to freeze, but Rachel moves, albeit slowly, as she inserts another dollar. She leans back a little, pretending to deliberate, mouth over her hand as she says, “No-audio cameras, huh?”

“They probably won’t be looking this late at night,” the man replies. “But still, times like these, we can’t take any chances.”

“That’s a good point,” Rachel mumbles.

Jake blinks a couple of times. He’s tempted to turn around anyway, just to figure out what the hell is going on, but he’s not that stupid. Instead, he looks to Rachel. “What’s going on?” he asks quietly.

“It’s okay,” she replies, softly. “I know who he is. Right, Steve?”

“I’d like to think you know me, after all these years,” the man – Steve – replies, clear humor in his voice, and the knot of tension in Jake’s stomach relaxes just a little. Rachel punches out a code and a packet of gum falls. Jake bends down to get it out.

“How did you find us?” he asks.

“Lawrence told me where you guys are headed,” Steve explains. “He had your license plate number and, well, we still have some friends in high places. But that doesn’t matter – you’re not going to Cuba anymore. He’s got a different plan for you.”

“Different plan?” Jake says, keeping his face neutral. He takes a considering look at the candies. “What do you mean?”

“Cuba isn’t bad but it’s risky,” he says. “There’s a better place and, well… they’ve asked for you specifically.”

Rachel raises a brow. “They?”

“I can’t explain more.” He sighs. “I really wish I could, but there’s too much of a risk. Just – I’m heading out with my ice. Outside in the hallway, there aren’t any cameras. Check by the room door to the left, while you’re heading back to yours. It should be all you need.”

“All right,” Rachel says. She puts in the code for a bar of Snickers, then sighs. “Take care, Steve.”

“You too, Rachel.” Steve’s hesitant, for a moment. “Also, you should know, your disguises are terrible.” He takes his bucket of ice and leaves, not once looking back. 

Jake and Rachel just stand there for a couple of seconds, and they almost forget to grab the Snickers before walking out into the hallway.

Steve is long gone, of course he is, but there’s an envelope right where he said it would be – thick and yellow and full of mystery. Jake’s hands shake, just a little, when he picks it up and they all but run back to the room.

“Is everything okay?” Katy starts to ask, but Jake’s already headed over to the desk and Rachel’s standing over him and soon Katy and Dana are too, questions on the tip of their tongues that disappear when he pulls out – 

Passports. Six passports for the six of them. Except, there’s no United States emblem on them, not even the name, and all the pages are blank. Every single one.

“What the hell?” Rachel mumbles, skimming through a booklet. “What the hell…”

“There’s a letter in this one,” Dana says. She pulls it out and unfolds it, handing it over to Katy – the only one among the four of them who could read without glasses. Jake’s pretty sure Jim and Ari can read just fine too, but one quick glance reveals that they’re both fast asleep, one splayed out completely and the other curled up softly.

He turns back to Katy as she clears her throat. “Well,” she says, slowly, “it, uh, looks like we’re headed to Mexico.”

Jake blinks. “What?”

She shrugs and hands the paper over. “According to Lawrence, we keep these passports with us and we cross the border in San Diego and head to Tijuana. We have to get there by Friday at six, otherwise we’ll be stuck there for about a week.”

“Today’s, what,” Jake checks his watch. “Okay, it’s Wednesday now, we have to get there by Friday – that’s, what, less than seventy-two hours? All the way across the country?”

There’s a beat of silence, then Dana sighs. “Well,” she says, “there’s only one thing to do, then.” She crosses her arms. “We gotta connect to the internet and look up directions.” She goes to grab her coat. “McDonald’s should be open. I’ll drive.”

Jake doesn’t need to be told that he and Rachel are staying behind. He watches as Katy and Dana leave, dressed as inconspicuously as possible but that’s hard, considering they’re both attractive women, and kicks off his shoes. There’s still the snacks on the table but he’s not hungry anymore.

“You should get some sleep,” Rachel tells him. “Take the bed with Jim.”

“I’m not that tired,” Jake tries to insist. He kicks off his shoes and runs a hand through his hair, struggling to hold back a yawn.

“Yeah, sure,” Rachel says with a playful scoff. She nudges his arm as she heads to the restroom, and Jake quickly has to confront the fact that he really will fall asleep and he doesn’t want to have to wake up in an uncomfortable chair.

He barely makes it to Jim’s bed before collapsing in it, eyes closed before his head even hits the pillow.

It’s going to be a long seventy-two hours and he knows it. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“We’re not driving through the night,” Katy says, voice firm and resolute. She’s crossing her arms and glaring daggers into Ari, who shrugs. “Come on, you know it’s dangerous. You and Jim need your proper rest unless Dana and Jake are allowed to drive.”

“You know we can’t do that,” Ari sighs. “Jake’s too recognizable and there’s a less of a chance we’ll be stopped if there’s a man behind the wheel. And I know it’s sexist, but, well, that’s the kind of world we live in now.”

“It’s a shitty world,” she grumbles softly. “Come on, you could barely survive ten hours in a car – you think you could last more?”

“For what it’s worth,” Jake chimes in, “I agree with Katy. Nighttime is too dangerous. There’s too much of a chance that we’ll be pulled over or something and then, well, who knows?”

“Exactly.”

Ari shakes his head, sighing again. “Look, we need to make almost 2,500 miles within three days. And the third day, we only have until six to get to this address – not to mention the fact that we’ll be crossing a country’s borders so who knows how long that will take. No, we need to drive at least six hours at night too. Three me, three Jim.”

“Eighteen hours straight in a car is  _ insane _ ,” Katy says plainly. “Absolutely insane, Ari. We only get to stretch our legs when we’ve stopped at a fast food place or a rinky-dink gas station but what we really need is a decent night’s sleep in a decent bed.”

“Prison has decent beds.”

“Prison has terrible beds,” Jim pipes up. He’s sitting in the back this time with Dana, bare feet against her leg as he stretches his back out, looking away from the sunset.

And then, because he’s inclined to play Devil’s advocate, Jake asks, “Do we have a plan in place for if we have to deal with a police officer?”

No one responds immediately. Jim looks considering. “Do we have any weapons on us?”

Dana scoffs and swats his legs. “We are not going to attack a police officer.”

“And you think they’re not going to do the same to us?” he asks.

“He’s got a point,” Rachel says. “We’re not exactly ordinary citizens - the moment they run one of our licenses, we’re done for.”

“Which is why Jake isn’t driving,” Ari concludes.

“I could drive at night,” Jake suggests with a shrug, and he can’t help a smile when Ari lets out a frustrated groan and Katy dives right back into the conversation.

Jim gives him a look, face set but his eyes are soft and playful. “You see what you did?” he says.

Jake shrugs. “What did I do?”

“You gave us another hour of entertainment.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Where’s Jim?” Jake asks. He’s dressed down, in one of his shirts and a pair of Jim’s shorts, a little loose around the thighs but it’s better than nothing They’ve been swapping clothes for sleeping, it’s just a little easier – Dana wears one of his button-downs and the hem comes down to her mid-thigh. It’s kind of endearing.

She shrugs, face set in a frown. “Didn’t he say he was going to get ice? That was like an hour ago...”

“He’s right outside,” Katy says. She’s by the window, pulling down one of the blinds and looking out. “Sitting on the steps. I think he just... wanted to be alone for a bit.”

Jake still remembers that night with the bathroom and the sounds of sadness, so he grabs someone’s coat and pulls it on as he walks out. It’s only a few steps to him. He can even hear the others talking inside, even if it is muffled through the walls.

He clears his throat and sits down beside him. Jim doesn’t turn his head, staring out in the distance, and then he brings his cigar to his lips. A huff of smoke comes out when he speaks. “Hey, Jake.”

“Hi,” Jake whispers. He didn’t mean for his voice to go soft and he tries again. “I didn’t know you smoked.”

Jim shrugs. “Not actively,” he admits. “Just, you know… when I’m stressed.” He blows out again and Jake watches the smoke rise and dissipate into the air. “It’s been stressful.”

“It has,” Jake has to agree. He turns away from him and they both look out into the distance, at the few passing cars and the lights out far away. The moment is quiet and sweet and maybe it’s apropos that or maybe it’s apropos nothing but then he says, all of a sudden, “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Jim turns his head and he’s opening his mouth but Jake keeps speaking. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he says again. “I’m not – this. Not a fugitive, not an escape artist, I can’t do so many of the things others can. I’m just – a journalist. Always have been. Just an ordinary journalist in a country where journalism is dying.”

“You’re not ordinary,” Jim replies, quietly. “You’re… you’re far from it.”

The chuckle Jake lets out sounds fake, even to him. He shakes his head. “No,” he says. “No I’m not. All I want – all I really want, right now, is to just… be with my family. My wife, my kids, my fucking dogs. That’s all I want, and… well, I probably shouldn’t be saying this to you, but… I don’t think I’m ever going to see them again.”

He stops speaking. He doesn’t think he can continue. Something wet falls from his cheek and drops on his hands and he knows it’s not rain. He doesn’t want to think about it.

And then, Jim wraps his arm around him. There’s a steady heat to him, maybe from the cigar or maybe from something else, maybe just from him, as he pulls Jake closer.

“Hey,” he says. “We can’t focus on that right now. Because, if we do, we’re not going to be able to move forward.”

“Yeah,” Jake sighs. He knows, of course he knows. Just because you know something, doesn’t mean you want to acknowledge it. And maybe he wants to be in a depressive angst.

But Jim continues. “We got to move moment to moment,” he says. He takes another drag and blows away from Jake’s face. “Focus on the one we’re in right now and then move to the next and keep going. We can’t stop, not now, not until we’re back with them.”

Jake doesn’t know what to say so he just nods. Something builds up in his throat and he swallows it down and it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. His cheeks are still wet.

Jim’s not looking at him but he pulls him a little closer, until Jake could lean on his shoulder if he wanted to, and they both stare out into nowhere.

A few beats of silence pass before Jim says, “You know you’re wearing my jacket, right?”

And Jake can’t help it, he breaks out into a laugh. He chuckles softly, shaking his head and resting a little closer and he sighs just as Jim does.

There are still tears on his cheeks.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Jake opens his eyes at one point, during their first nighttime drive. Dana’s at the wheel, after a contentious verbal battle with Ari and Jim, and Rachel is navigating.

He hears them talking, a little, but it takes him some time to properly tune in. He’s not quite awake yet.

“Hola,” Dana says. “Jalapeños. See, it kind of has the same sound.”

“I think that’s because you’re saying it in a very bad accent,” Rachel counters. They both laugh and the corners of Jake’s mouth quirk. He’s back to a half-asleep state when he hears Rachel speak again. It’s quieter this time, much quieter.

“I’m sorry about Jonah,” she says. “I know he’s young and I probably have no idea how you’re feeling about it, but…”

“It’s all right,” Dana says, and she doesn’t sound broken or upset at all. “He’s safe, he’s with his father, and that’s what matters. His happiness and his safety is more important to me than anything else.”

And Jake is almost asleep so he’s not sure if he’s dreaming when he hears her say, “I could die knowing he’s all right.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Oh, I love this song,” Jim grins as he turns up the radio volume. “And it’s the version without Bieber.”

“I don't mind the version with Bieber,” Katy pipes up.

Jim rolls his eyes. “Katy, you willingly listen to and make references to Phish. I don’t think we should be listening to your musical advice.”

“Hey, Phish is a good band,” Ari counters, but Dana makes a scoffing sound from the back and then the next thing Jake knows, everyone is suddenly in a huge heated argument about the band Phish.

Jake can’t help but smile. He wishes their trip would be full of moments like these, lighthearted and happy and everyone laughing in their exaggerated anger.

He knows it won’t but hey, he can dream.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Jake doesn’t know whether to blame bad luck or kismet for being unable to sleep, but, well, here he is, awake at the border. Jim and Katy are still up front, both wearing sunglasses, and from what Jake can tell, they’re only a couple of cars away from the border itself.

Jake thinks he’s going to throw up.

No one’s asleep now. He sees Ari’s head up and Dana’s fingers clench on the armrest and he really can’t help it, he takes Rachel’s hand and gives it a tight squeeze when Jim finally lowers the window and leans his head out. “Buenos tardes,” he hums. He sounds like he’s smiling.

Jake’s not sure how he’s able to do that. He still wants to throw up.

There’s some back and forth between him and the border patrol, all in Spanish, and Jake keeps an eye on Katy’s face for any sign of trouble. She visibly stiffens when Jim reaches down and pulls out the passports, they all do, and the next few moments feel like an eternity.

And then the patrolman switches to English. “Well, Mr. Acosta,” he says, “it seems as though our mutual friend has put everything is in order. You’re free to enter.” He keeps talking, back to Spanish, and Jake takes this moment to bask in relief at the fact that yes, they can enter, they’re finally out of the United States (he’ll focus on the sadness of that later) – but then it’s quickly replaced with confusion because how the hell did the patrolman know Lawrence, if he was talking about Lawrence at all – but he swallows down his questions and takes a deep breath.

_ One moment at a time _ , he thinks.  _ Get through one, then get through the next. _

Rachel pats his arm. “You okay, Jake?”

“Yeah,” Jake nods.

Jim rolls up the window and starts driving forward. “All right,” he says. “They’re telling us that we head to the patrolman’s station and they’ll smuggle us into the city in one of their trucks, to the airfield, where someone’s going to take us out of the country and to where we’re supposed to be going.” He’s quiet for a second, then, all of a sudden, breaks out into a fit of giggles. And then Katy’s laughing along with him, shaking her head and wiping her eyes.

No one else is laughing. Dana clears her throat. “Are you two okay?”

“We’re fine,” Katy replies, still chuckling. “It’s just, well…”

“The guy,” Jim explains, “he said I looked like George Clooney.”

“Oh,” Jake says. It’s not that funny but he smiles anyway. “That’s… funny.”

“Yeah, it is,” Ari says and he forces out a half-convincing chuckle. Rachel’s laughing too but Jake’s not sure if it’s genuine or faked – she’s just that good at it.

They step out of the car the moment they park, all rushing out all at once to stretch out their legs and get their bodies working again. Jake thinks he hears some of his joints crack when he moves and he watches as another patrolman walks over. Jim and Katy speak with her, hushed tones in another language, and then, all of a sudden, “What the  _ fuck _ ?”

All of them stop stretching and look over. Jim’s mouth hangs open and Katy’s covering hers and Jake feels his mouth go dry. He takes a deep breath and walks over. “What – what happened?”

Katy just gapes at him with her eyes wide and blinking, and Jim doesn’t even look at him when he speaks. “They just got word,” he says, his voice slow and deliberate and almost fake, “that the President of the United States has asked Congress to formally declare war on Russia. And…”

“And they’re going to do it,” Katy finishes. She wipes her face and lets out a low breath. 

Jake doesn’t even know what to think, so he doesn’t say anything at all.


	2. Chapter 2

“What happened?” Jake asks. They’re in the back of a truck, sounds of the outside echoing through the dim darkness around them and it makes his head hurt a little but he doesn’t care. It’s not important right now. He needs to know what’s happening.

Jim, pressed up beside him, puts a hand on his knee as he takes a deep breath. “From what the Mexican media is reporting,” he says, “the President has exacerbated all his available resources in Crimea, so he’s now formally requesting Congress to declare this a war.”

“How long will Congress wait until they have to vote?” Rachel asks.

“From what we heard, they’re voting on it within the week,” Katy tells her and even with the odd acoustics, it’s clear she’s struggling to keep her voice level.

Dana lets out a long sigh. “Well, shit.” No one else says anything after that. Ari and Dana might have some smart comment or some political insight, and usually they’d share it, but Congress is different now and so is politics and so are they. So, no one says anything.

It’s all too different now. All too real. And it’s a fucking relief that their plans – whatever they may be, no one’s explained anything to them yet – haven’t changed because of this shit hitting the fan. He’d like to reflect on how it got to this point but honestly, he just wants to keep moving forward. No point in lingering on the past.

The truck hits a bump in the road and everything jumps up for a second, even them. Hysterical laughter bubbles up in his throat and he makes a physical effort to swallow it down.

Jim’s hand is still on his knee. It helps ground him, keeps him in the moment, helps him breathe; he doesn’t want it to go.

The sun is a little lower in the sky when the back finally opens and they’re let out. Katy and Jim go first, quickly exchanging words with the guards and dammit, Jake swears that he’s going to learn Spanish so that he won’t be so left out in conversations like these. He exchanges a grimace with the rest of them, stretching out his legs again and running a hand through his hair.

“I hope wherever we’re going,” Ari says, “it’s not this hot. I am sweating through my shirt.” He lifts up the hem and wipes his face, leaving a stain on the white fabric.

“I think that’s my shirt,” Jake says, slowly. “Yeah, I’m positive it is. I wore that like, last week, I’m pretty sure.”

“Oh,” Ari says. His eyes drift to Jim, slowly narrowing in consideration. “Hey, I think Jim is wearing _my_ shirt too.” He turns back to him. “Are you wearing Jim’s shirt?”

Jake looks down at himself, shrugging. “I… think I am.” There’s no way to tell, except that it’s a little tight across the arms and he might vaguely remember pulling it out of a bag that wasn’t his own during some rest stop where they had seconds to shower.

It’s a nice shirt. He wonders if Jim noticed. He wonders if he minds.

“When did we start wearing each other’s clothes?” Dana asks. She’s tugging at her shirt, unabashedly airing out her chest, and no one can really blame her because it is so fucking hot. “I mean, I don’t think this is my top.”

Before any of them can consider the question, Jim and Katy are walking back. He gestures to what looks like a cargo plane behind them and says, “That’s our ride.”

“Ride?” Rachel raises a brow. “Ride to where, exactly?”

Katy actually chuckles a little, but it’s not very humorous, mostly tinted with something sad and strange. “Who’s up for some sun and fun,” she says, “because we’re heading to Hawai’i.”

“ _Hawai’i_?” Jake can’t keep the incredulity out of his voice because, well, it’s incredulous. “Like – Hawai’i, the state, in the Pacific Ocean? That’s where we’re going?”

“That’s the one,” Jim hums. “We’re going to Honolulu, to be exact.” He’s got a smile on his face, eerily similar to the one Katy has, and something must’ve gotten lost in translation because it feels like there’s something they know that the rest of them don’t.

Oddly enough, Rachel laughs like she’s in on the joke. She claps Ari on the back and says, “Well, looks like your plan to stop sweating through Jake’s shirt isn’t going to come into fruition anytime soon.”

Ari rolls his eyes and chuckles lightly, and then, he abruptly stops, as though he just realized what he was doing. “I don’t know why I’m laughing,” he says, slowly. “It’s… it’s not really funny.”

Katy and Jim look at each other for a moment, faces strained and eyes weary, just like the rest of them, maybe even a little worse, there’s no way to know for certain. Jim shrugs. “I guess we’re just…” he pauses, then tries again. “It’s funny because we’re going to Hawai’i, you know? Like…”

He’s trailing off and Dana intercedes. “It’s a place you go for vacation,” she says. “But we’re not going there for vacation, we’re going there for refuge and sanctuary, and Hawai’i isn’t really the place for that, but we’re going anyway. That’s why it’s kind of funny.”

“Huh,” Jake says, and he thinks he gets it now. Except, it’s still not funny, it just punctures something in his chest and dammit, all of a sudden, the only thing he can think about is how much he really doesn’t want to be here. He clears his throat and tries to clear his mind. “Do we… know why?”

“Why we’re going?” Katy asks. She shrugs. “They said the people on the plane would explain it to us.”

“I guess we’re going to the plane, then,” Rachel says. She bends down, picking up her bags and hoisting it over her shoulder as she walks, Dana sliding into step beside her as her suitcase follows.

Jake reaches to grab his but Jim gets to it first. He tucks it under his arm and gives Jake a soft smile that makes him forget to argue that he can hold his own things, and then they’re walking with the rest of them, all the way to the other side of the tarmac.

The inside reminds him of every single war movie he’s seen where there’s a scene on a plane they’re about to jump out of or something, and a pit in his stomach develops as he hopes to God that they won’t have to parachute into Hawai’i. He takes his seat next to Jim and sets his bag between his legs, leaning back and looking around. “So, who’s flying this?”

“Jake Tapper, always asking the hard-hitting questions,” someone says, and then Robby Mook, of all people, stands in front of him, all but smirking at Jake’s obviously aghast expression.

“Oh my god,” Katy says, because really, what else is there to say. Except, of course, her next statement, which is, “I had no idea you knew how to fly a plane.”

Robby laughs and damn, it’s kind of strange to hear after listening to the same five people laugh over and over again for about a week. He shakes his head. “No, I’m just the co-pilot. _He_ is the one flying the plane.” He gestures over to the cockpit and –

And there’s Jim Sciutto, sitting casually in the pilot’s seat, smiling through his headset. “Hey, guys, how’s it going?” There’s a long beat of silence as everyone just _gapes_ because damn, there’s no way any of them could’ve seen something like this happening, and then Sciutto shrugs.

“Well,” he says, “it sounds like we’ve got some explaining to do.”

“I’ll say,” Robby chuckles. He turns around, looking around at the rest of them. “It’ll be easier once we’re in the air, but I’m sure you all collectively have one burning question so we can get that out of the way and then we can get down into the nitty-gritty of what’s going on. Six hours should be more than enough time to explain, don’t you think?”

No one says anything for a second, then Rachel clears her throat. “All right, I’ll bite,” she says. “Why are we going to Honolulu?”

Robby turns his head to Sciutto, who laughs, shaking his head as he turns away from the controls and back to her. “Because,” he says, “that’s where the rebellion is.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jake doesn’t know how long he’s been sleeping for but he wakes up on Jim, cheek squished against his shoulder and arm drooped against his thigh. He wipes his face, stretching out his back as he sits up and asks, “How long was I out?”

“Not sure,” Jim admits. He’s blinking slowly, eyes seemingly dazed, and he rubs them with the bottom of his palms. “I just woke up a couple of minutes ago.” He smiles a little. “Kind of hard to sleep in a plane like this when we’re used to Air Force One, huh?”

“Yeah,” Jake chuckles lightly. It drifts off slowly and he looks around, at everyone else. Robby and Sciutto are still up, seemingly talking, but whatever they’re saying is drowned out by the loud noises of the world they’re passing by outside.

Ari seems to be making himself at home, body across three seats with his head in Katy’s lap and feet almost touching Jim, with his mouth hanging slightly open. She’s awake, but she’s got her eyes on Rachel’s iPad and she’s got headphones in her ears. And, also, she’s got one of her hands carding through Ari’s hair, fingers idly moving through the strands and pushing them back. Jake doesn’t think he should interrupt them, whatever it is they’re doing, but something about it feels significant.

Rachel and Dana are sitting across from them and they look pretty comfortable too. Rachel’s got her head leaned back and Dana’s pressed against her shoulder and they both look so peaceful and Jake wonders if that’s what he and Jim looked like before they woke up.

It looks. Nice.

“It’s kind of weird,” Jim says quietly. He’s leaned forward and his face is lit up by the moonlight peering in through the window. It gives his words some ominous quality and Jake can’t tear his eyes away. “I mean, I know Jim and Robby did their best explaining everything, but it just…” he licks his lips and looks at him. “It doesn’t feel real, does it?”

Jake shakes his head. “No, it doesn’t.” He lets out a slow breath then, suddenly, a chuckle. “It’s kind of funny,” he says, “in an ironic way, that the people who were blaming the fictionalized deep state back in the day – you remember that, with the whole Fox News rants and everything? That they kind of created the very real ‘deep state’ that we’re heading to right now.”

“Yeah,” Jim says, subtle smile playing on his lips. He barely chuckles. “Hey, imagine the look on Hannity’s face if he knew that both Clinton and Obama are part of this real deep state. I think he’d explode.”

“I’d tell him just to watch the subsequent rant,” Jake says, and they exchange short, muffled laugh, covering their mouths, eyes sparking a little with tears of exhaustion and hysteria. Dana stirs, cheek sliding off Rachel’s shoulder, and Jake finds his mouth opening again. “Hey, Jim?”

“Yeah?” he replies, still smiling. It looks a little delirious, really, but Jake shouldn’t be judging. They’re all a little off-kilter now. The end of the world as you know it can do that to you.

He clears his throat and his eyes slide down to Jake’s lap as he speaks. “So,” he starts, “a couple of nights ago – I’m not really sure how many, time seems to have lost some meaning at some point during this whole trip – but, a couple of nights ago…” He pauses. Somehow, in the past couple of days, he’s forgotten how to talk to someone like this. Someone he knows, about something personal, that they likely don’t want to talk about.

He tries again, words quickly escaping him. “Well – and not that I think you’re the one who did this, but a couple of nights ago, I heard someone… well, I heard them –”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Jim cuts him off. He’s looking right at Jake and Jake looks back at him. “I’m not saying it was me,” he says, slowly, “but if it were, do you think I would want to talk about it?”

“You should,” Jake replies. “We all should.” And it’s partly because he knows that there is some healing in opening up about something like this, verbalizing your feelings and fears and getting them out in the open; but also, he actually wants to talk about it. There’s a part of him, perhaps masochistic in nature or perhaps just self-pitying, that really wants to talk about this painful point, if for no reason but to know that he’s not alone in all of this.

That someone else feels the way he does.

But Jim sighs and says, “Jake, I really don’t want to talk about it,” and his voice is firm and demanding but also soft and rather sorrowful. He’s looking at his lap now, fingers clenching and unclenching, and for the first time during this whole trip, something occurs to Jake. Maybe, just maybe, despite how close they’ve gotten in the past – week? days? hours? – they still don’t know each other.

“Okay,” Jake says quietly. He swallows a little. “I’m… I’m sorry. I can relate to what you’re going through and I just want to –”

“It’s fine.” Jim gets to his feet and looks up at the cockpit. “I’m going to see if Jim or Robby have any news on what’s happening with Russia.”

He goes, and Katy, whom Jake had completely forgotten about at some point (kind of rude considering they’ve been together for so long) lets out a breath as she turns over to him. Her face is lit by the glow of the iPad and she looks more tired than usual. “Well,” she says, “that could’ve gone better.”

“Yeah,” Jake sighs. “It was pretty bad. I’m usually not this bad, but I guess I’m just… sleep deprived.”

“Seems like it. But,” she seems to consider something for a moment. “But it could’ve gone a lot worse.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean, all you did just now was prove that while you might be stupid about your methods, you really care.” She smiles at him and he smiles back, and when Jim starts heading back to them, they smile at him too.

And it takes a second, but he smiles back at them too. It’s kind of their new normal – smiles all around. Even if they don’t feel like it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There are two cars waiting for them on the tarmac when they finally land in Honolulu, just a couple of feet or so away from where the plane lands. Jake is just glad they don’t have to go through airport security or anything because all the wants to do is lie down and never get up.

And then, because his brain must hate him, he starts to think about his home, his bed, and lazy Saturday mornings where he could just curl up in the sheets with Jen and Winston and never have to wake up.

He blinks the thought away and looks around the others, all looking haggard and disheveled through their jetlag. Well, all but Sciutto and Robby who seem as chipper and alert as they did back in Mexico, before they took off. Then again, they hadn’t been the ones to drive all the way from the US into Mexico for days straight.

Dana glares at the back of their heads as they walk ahead of them, shaking her head. She’s holding her shoes in her hands and walks in a pair of socks clearly too big for her. Jake wonders whose they are. “I can’t believe they’re walking so fast,” she mumbles. “God, my neck is fucking killing me.”

“I feel you there,” Rachel says, rubbing the back of her head. She takes Dana’s suitcase out of her hand and lets it roll behind her, along with her own. Dana doesn’t say anything but she smiles, just a little.

Ari turns around. “Really? You guys didn’t sleep that well?” he raises a brow. “I had a great sleep.”

“That’s because you spent the whole ride sleeping on my lap, Ari” Katy says. She flicks the side of his head and everyone laughs a little. It’s nice, these moments, where they’re all acting a little bit normal, like they’re back on the road. It’s almost definitely their way of coping because of, well, everything that’s happened, but it makes sense. No matter what happens, people like to pretend things are normal. Especially when they aren’t.

Sciutto’s opening the trunk of one of the cars and gesturing the rest of them over. He grabs the bags and starts to shove them inside, one after the other, as Robby climbs into the passenger seat. “Rachel, Jake, you guys are riding in the other car.”

“Other car?” Jake blinks. “Are we going to different places?” He feels everyone stop around him and he thinks they’re about to protest but Robby shakes his head.

“No, no, it’s not that,” he says. He pauses a moment to open up a water bottle and take a long sip. “No, it’s just Axe wants to explain what your jobs are gonna be personally.”

“ _Axe_?” Jake repeats, at the same time as Rachel says, “ _Jobs_?”

Robby looks to Sciutto, who looks back at the rest of them with a hapless shrug. “I guess I forgot to mention some things when I was explaining.” He clears his throat. “Well, I mean, you didn’t think that we were just sending you to the headquarters of the rebellion without giving you something to do, did you?”

No one says anything for a couple of moments, then Jim clears his throat. “Well, I was kind of hoping to get some beach time in, so, uh…”

“Yeah, same here,” Ari says.

Dana rolls her eyes. “What these idiots _mean_ is that they’re more than willing to help their country and the provisional government, which was so gracious enough to help them escape the government that’s trying to kill them.” She crosses her arms. “ _Right_?”

Jake just shakes his head, quiet chuckle escaping his lips as he follows Rachel into the other car. “I call the back.”

“No fair, Tapper,” Rachel tries to deadpan, a little smile breaking through as she opens up the passenger’s seat. They climb in at the same time and someone grumbles from behind the wheel.

“Took you long enough,” David Axelrod says, chuckling a little at Rachel. He looks up in the rearview and inclines his head at Jake. “Nice to see both of you, safe and sound, back in the good ol’ USA. Though, I have to say, you both look like shit.”

Jake huffs. “Why don’t you try travelling cross-country, into a different country, then across an ocean to a territory of the first country, all in about twenty-four hours?”

David pretends to think about it for a moment. “No, I don’t think I will.” The corners of his mouth seem to quirk as Rachel and Jake break into laughter, exhausted but genuine. He waits until they’re on the road to clear his throat. “So, what did Robby and Jim tell you?”

“Apparently, nothing at all,” Rachel says. Jake shrugs. “Well, they gave us the basics, about how Obama decided to create the ‘deep state’ –”

“God, I hate that phrase,” David sighs. “Unfortunately, it’s the most accurate one, and all the young kids love using it whenever they can. That, or the ‘resistance’, which, honestly, sounds a whole lot worse.”

“What would you call it?” Rachel asks.

He shrugs. “What the President calls it – the provisional government of the United States.”

“That’s… a mouthful,” Jake says, slowly. “I mean, the resistance is a hell of a lot catchier, even if it isn’t exactly accurate.”

“Well, I guess that’s your first job, then. Among your other duties – which, to be honest, are more important and time-consuming, so just keep this one on the backburner then. But, make sure it’s up there.”

Jake blinks as Rachel says, “You, uh, still haven’t told us _what_ we’re doing, really.”

“Oh, right,” David nods. He clears his throat. “Well, it’s going to sound worse than it really is.”

“Really?”

“No.” He pauses, seeming to collect his thoughts. “Okay, so you two will be in charge of our as-of-yet uncreated communications department.”

“As-of-yet uncreated?” Jake repeats. “You mean –”

“Yup – you’ll have to do everything yourself. We have almost _nothing_ built up for you, aside from a loose assortment of reporters scattered around the States sending us text alerts about whatever’s happening, but it’s messy, we’re getting too much of the same news and not enough _new_ news.”

He makes a sharp turn and Jake nearly hits his head against the window. “Ow,” he mumbles, but David ignores him. He continues, “What we need, essentially, is a streamlined process for our news gathering. We don’t have enough of our own moles in the intel agencies or police force or whatever’s left in the government, so what we’re relying on are the old journos who haven’t yet left, and try to see if they can still talk to their old sources.”

“People still talk?” Rachel asks.

David lets out a humorless laugh. “Well, hey, everyone needs to complain to someone and journalists are great at listening… _some_ of them, at least.” He shakes his head. “Anyway, as I was saying, what we need is a more streamlined process of communicating with our moles and people, so we can spend less time gathering intelligence and more time _using_ it.”

“So how are _we_ going to do that?” Jake asks.

“I was getting there,” David huffs, rolling his eyes. He makes another sharp turn. “We’re gonna give you a team of people, as many as we can manage, whose jobs will be to gather information from all these people, then organize the raw data into a comprehensive brief for the relevant department.”

“Department?” Jake asks, as Rachel says, “This sounds a lot like we’re acting as intelligence officers instead of journalists.”

“If we could get _real_ intel officers, we would,” David assures her, “but we can’t, so we’re settling for reporters-turned-secret agents.”

Jake chuckles. “When you put it like that, it actually sounds like a lot of fun.” Rachel turns her head and gives him a look and David laughs from the driver’s side, shaking his head. “Damn, you’re ridiculous, Jake,” he chuckles.

And Jake is about to respond when he sees some sort of – barricade? turnpike? something like that – out in the middle of the road. David drives right up there, rolling down his window and inclining his head at a couple of people who seem to be standing guard. “Hey guys.” He leans across to the glove compartment and pulls out what appears to be some sort of ID.

One of them nods and the other moves to lift up the barrier. David raises the window and they drive under. “We’ve bought out all the buildings in these few blocks so as long as you stay in the perimeter, you should be fine.”

“Wait, _what_?” Jake blinks. “How the hell did you manage to buy that much property without drawing attention to the fact that, you know, a bunch of people the government wants to find are buying it?”

David shrugs. “Hey, don’t ask me, I didn’t do the actual buying. That was all the Interior Secretary and the Treasury Secretary.”

“Who’re they?”

“Michelle Obama and Elon Musk.”

Jake’s pretty sure his and Rachel’s laughter can be heard clearly from outside the car.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Okay,” Ari says. He’s standing in the middle of the hallway, between two doors, staring down at the cardkeys in his hands. “Okay, so, did we decide who’s staying where?”

“Does it _really_ matter?” Rachel asks. “Two people will be literally one door over, while the four of you will be in that one.”

Jim furrows his brow. “Four of _us_?”

“I enjoy my personal space, Jim.”

“So it’s settled, then,” Dana says. She reaches over and takes a card. “Rachel and I will be in the single, the four of you will be in the double. We’ll come by in the morning for breakfast or something.” She opens the door, letting Rachel step through first with the bags, and waves at them before closing it shut.

None of them move for a moment, until Katy finally breaks the silence. “I guess we’re all just moving in here, then.”

“I cannot _wait_ to sleep in a bed,” Jim sighs. He leans against the wall as Ari opens the door, stepping behind Jake and Katy as they all sort of shuffle inside, one by one, exhausted.

Jake barely takes in the room, he just plops his bags by the door and starts searching for his pajamas. “I don’t know about you three,” he says, “but I am dead tired and ready to collapse in a nice bed.”

“ _Way_ ahead of you,” Katy’s already down the hall, peering into the bedroom. “Aw, damn, there’s only one bed in each.”

Jim frowns a little, looking around the living room. “You know what, these couches look like they might be pretty comfortable…” he plops down on one, fumbling around the sides. “Well, it’s _not_ a futon…”

“What’s wrong with sleeping in the same bed?” Jake asks. “I mean, we did it the entire trip up here.”

“Yeah,” Ari says. “But, well, we don’t _need_ to, do we? I mean, it’s not like we _can’t_ sleep without someone else in our bed, right?” He lets out a wide yawn, rubbing his eyes a little. “Okay, in like two seconds, I might just collapse on the floor.”

“Sleep in the bed,” Katy tells him. She plops down beside him and reclines the seat. “We’ll be fine out here. You and Jake can sleep in the beds.”

Jim raises his brow. “Oh, so you’re just volunteering me to sleep here with you, without even asking me?”

“Jim, I’m old enough to remember about a week ago when you said you’d sleep on the floor to be a gentleman so don’t even.” She swats his arm and he breaks out into a laugh but Jake really doesn’t feel comfortable with this, making them sleep on the couch. He tries to interject but the looks they’re giving his way make him change his mind about bringing it up.

He’s in bed within the hour, curled up in a couple of soft blankets, and by all rights, he should be asleep, but, well. He isn’t. His body is exhausted and his brain is desperate to turn off and just relax into the covers, just finally shutting down and going to sleep, but.

He can’t. The fan is running and the only light comes from the crack under the door, out into the hallway, and it should all be perfect. But, the thing is, the bed just feels too big and the blankets don’t make him as warm as they should and, you know what, he thinks he knows what the problem is.

This is the first time he’s sleeping alone in a long while. And he just can’t deal with it, can he?

“Fuck,” he mumbles into the pillow. There’s no way he’s getting to sleep like this, he knows that, and he slowly pulls off the blankets and swings his legs over the side of the bed. Maybe there’s something in the kitchen – some herbal tea or adult Benadryl he can take to knock himself out until morning. He’s carefully backing out and slowly closing the door and when he turns, he’s face-to-face with Ari.

“ _Jesus_ , Jake, you nearly gave me a heart attack,” he huffs. He takes a couple of deep breaths, hand on his chest, shaking his head. “What – what are you doing up?”

Jake doesn’t see a reason in lying, so he just shrugs and comes right out with the truth. “I don’t think I can sleep alone anymore,” he says, quietly.

To Jake’s surprise, Ari lets out a sigh of what sounds like relief. He reaches over and squeezes his shoulder. “Thanks for that,” he says. “I thought I was the only one.” He gives him a slight smile and opens his mouth to say something else, but then Katy’s voice rings through the hallway.

“Hey, I don’t know about you two, but _some_ of us are trying to sleep.”

“Katy,” Jim says, “you are sitting right next to me, I can _see_ you on your Kindle.” There’s some shuffling and a muffled yelp, and Jake and Ari walk in to see them in a halfhearted pillow fight. Katy swings hers to hit Jim on the head and Jim’s hits her arm and they just repeat the motions.

“Are we interrupting something?” Jake asks, brow raised.

They both stop and look at him. “No,” Jim finally says. He lowers his pillow. “Why’re you two up? I thought you went to bed ages ago.”

“Yeah, well…” Ari shrugs. He bends down, crouching in front of Katy. “Will you… sleep with me?”

Katy’s jaw drops. “ _What_?”

Ari blinks a couple of times, as if going over what he’d just said, then slaps his forehead. “I mean – _sleep_ , like, literal sleep. Will you sleep in the same bed as me?”

She doesn’t even take a second to consider, just tucks her pillow under her arm and starts walking to the bedroom. “I’ll take the left side.”

“Hey, _I_ take the left side,” Ari huffs. He chases after her, closing the door, and then it’s just them, Jake and Jim, staring up at each other.

Jake manages a slight smile, shrugging a little as he shifts from one foot to the other. “Same question,” he says.

“Same answer,” Jim smiles. He gets up with a slight groan, stretching out his back, as he bends back to get his pillow. “Yeah, I don’t know what we were thinking, this is _not_ a good sleeping couch, whatever star rating this hotel has.”

He smiles at Jake and Jake, of course, smiles back as they head inside. Jim closes the door and lets Jake lie down first, on his side, facing the window. He feels the bed shift as Jim slides in under the covers, and there’s something weighted in the atmosphere. This isn’t the first time they shared a bed, no, but it is the first time when both of them are awake. When he knows he can’t sleep without someone.

He hears Jim clear his throat. “Uh, Jake?”

“Yeah?” Jake replies. He licks his lips a little, mouth suddenly dry.

“Could you… Could you pass me some more of the blanket?”

“Oh,” Jake chuckles. “Yeah, sure.” He pulls out some that was tucked under his side and feels Jim tug them over until Jake’s left with the edges. “Oh, crap, that’s too much.”

“This bed is _tiny_ ,” Jim sighs, and then taps Jake on the shoulder. “Uh, would you mind it if I sort of… you know… because the bed is small…”

Jake immediately understands what he’s trying to say. “No, no, not at all.” He hears some shuffling, and then there’s a warm presence pressed against his back – Jim’s arms, slowly wrapping up around his chest. All of a sudden, he isn’t that cold anymore.

“You don’t mind being the little spoon, do you?” Jim asks, and Jake can feel his chest rumble when he speaks.

“No, it’s fine,” Jake whispers. He doesn’t know why he’s whispering.

“Okay.” He shifts a little, still holding him, and then says, “Goodnight, Jake.”

“Night.”

It’s not at all uncomfortable. Jim’s arms are fairly warm and they make Jake feel… secure, like he’s wrapped up in a warm blanket that’s also breathing out in his hair. But it’s not uncomfortable at all, not even when there’s the occasional snore or slight shift where he pulls him in a little closer. No, it’s actually… nice.

Jake doesn’t know how long he lasts before he drifts off into sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“What time did he say?” Jake asks.

“He said six,” Rachel replies.

“And what time is it now?”

“It’s almost six-thirty.”

“So you understand why I’m a little concerned, right?”

She shakes her head. “Jake, seriously, it’s just a late start to a meeting. You know that this is something that happens _all the time_ , right? Someone runs late during a meeting, someone decides to go on an impromptu lunch break, someone just decides they want half an hour to themselves, et cetera, et cetera.”

“I can’t believe that we’re being bogged down by a bureaucracy we haven’t even created yet,” Jake sighs. He runs a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe coming up with this plan took all day – it’s not even that comprehensive of a plan.”

“It’s a good plan,” Rachel assures him. “Trust me, what we’re doing is the best we can do with the resources we have.”

Before either of them can continue the conversation, David opens the door and they immediately jump to their feet. He gestures for them to relax, as he looks to the empty desk. “Where did Carl go?”

“He said he was going to get us water,” Rachel says.

David shakes his head, a little fondly. “Water’s all the way downstairs and the elevators are still in maintenance. God, he’s such a good kid, even in the face of the end of the world.” He lets out a slow sigh, then opens the door a little wider to let them in.

In the face of all these important people, Jake suddenly – feels a lot calmer. He’s used to talking with people who are much more powerful than him and sure, usually he’s the one interrogating them on their choices and methodology and not the other way around, but he really shouldn’t linger on that last bit. It might psych him out.

“All right,” David says. “You probably know everyone in this room but for the sake of propriety, I’m going to introduce them anyway.” He clears his throat. “There’s Secretary of Homeland Security Lisa Monaco, Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, Deputy Secretary of State Seth Moulton, Secretary of Defense Leon Panetta, Vice President Kamala Harris, and, of course, President Barack Obama.”

At the last name, both Rachel and Jake stiffen a little. God, it is so strange to go _back_ to referring to Obama as president. As though the last election never happened – though, if it hadn’t, then they wouldn’t be standing before him right now, trying to explain what their plan is.

Jake looks at Rachel and Rachel looks at him and they wait for David to give them an expectant look before starting. “So,” she starts, “as we know, the current method of obtaining information from the continental United States has been very ineffective as of late. Resources that could be spent on infrastructure or other internal developments are instead being –”

Obama suddenly raises his hand. “Rachel,” he says, and Jake thinks he’s imagining the slight humor in his tone until he adds, “you don’t need to give one of your traditional backstory speeches. We’re all familiar with the situation.”

Rachel chuckles a little and rubs the back of her head. “Sorry, Mr. President,” she says. “I think I just speak that way now.” She laughs a little more, slightly awkward, as she gestures for Jake to go forward.

He takes a deep breath before he starts. “So, we’re going to use our team of reporters to as, essentially, information gatherers. What we need from your departments is the contact information from all of your sources – mainly, your most active ones – and we’ll go through the list, ensuring each one is secure before letting them become a consistent resource.”

Harris crosses her legs and Jake pauses, but she doesn’t say anything. He keeps going. “Once we have the full set, we’ll divide them by geographical location and assign one of our people to monitor specific locations – kind of like their ‘beats’, if this were a typical sort of job.”

He stops again. Panetta lets out a small cough and Clinton turns her head at the noise. Jake looks to Rachel and she picks up from where he left off. “So,” she says, clapping her hands together, “we’ll be getting information directly from the sources, during our regular business hours – and if something important happens during our off hours – and we’ll accumulate the relevant information into briefs –”

“Briefs,” Harris repeats. “Would these be more like traditional articles or just bullet-pointed information?”

“More like pool reports,” Jake says. “Just – accumulated information from different sources, written like a newsletter. Kind of like what Playbook used to be.” A slight chuckle rumbles through at that and he smiles a little.

“And I assume that if there’s some sort of breaking news or pertinent information, we’ll be receiving that immediately?” Clinton asks. She nods when they do and leans back a little. “What about the time difference? Washington is six hours ahead of DC. When it’s nine am here, it’s already three pm there.”

Rachel nods. “Yes, that’s true, and so we’ll have a dedicated person per week who runs on EST so we don’t miss out on anything. We decided on one because, well, it does get a little lonely when you’re living out of synch with everyone else.”

“That’s true,” Clinton says, and her face softens for a moment.

Monaco clears her throat and sits forward. “So, we won’t be receiving the raw data, right?” she asks. “Will we still have access to it, need be? I mean, I don’t necessarily see a reason why we would, but it’s best to be safe than sorry.”

“Yes, it is,” Rachel nods, “and we’ll have that available upon request.” She looks around before continuing. “We’d like to have a specific brief for each department, or at least know where to send relevant information, so we’re asking for a senior staff member to come by at some point this week to sit down with us and explain what kind of information they’re looking for.”

“People on the ground usually know better what’s needed than the people at the top,” Moulton notes, chuckling lightly. Jake manages a weak smile.

“I know you’re not finished yet,” Panetta starts, crossing his legs, “but I would like to make sure that there’s some sort of provision for us to specifically request information from you. Say, for example, the Interior Department is trying to find someone last seen in Southern Illinois. They’d be able to ask you to contact sources there and help locate that person, correct?”

“Correct,” Jake says, and Rachel adds, “It’s unlikely we’ll be getting information at every single second, so we should be available whenever you need us.”

Obama nods, slowly, surely, and he turns to both of them with a considering look. “We’re spread pretty thin in terms of resources,” he says, “but I want to make sure you two understand that what you’re doing is vital to our operation and we’ll do whatever we can to ensure you can do your jobs.”

Jake feels a lump in his throat and he swallows around it. “Thank you, sir,” he says.

He smiles at him. “Thank _you_.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“So, what’s everyone else’s job like?” Jake asks, picking idly at his salad. God, it’s been so long since he’s had a salad. He’s afraid he might’ve forgotten how to enjoy one. Why didn’t he insist on eating healthy during their impromptu cross-country road trip where they were running from the government?

Oh wait, he thinks he answered his own question.

Jim reaches over and grabs a slice of pizza from over Jake’s arm, setting it down on his plate before responding. “Well, Katy and I are now officially part of the State Department.”

“Really?” Rachel hums. She nods as she bites into her pizza.

“Really,” he replies. “She’s a translator and I am somehow the point man on all things Cuba.”

“He’s only the point man because Dan Restrepo is busy running the rest of Latin America,” Katy says, laughing as he rolls her eyes. She gestures her head over to Dana beside her. “What about you?”

“I’ve been working extensively with the Vice President,” she replies. She bites into a tomato and sets down her fork, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “We don’t have defined roles yet, but I _think_ that by the end of the week, I’m going to be chief of staff.”

Rachel laughs. “Just climbing up the ladder, aren’t you?” she says, winking at Dana and she swats a hand in her direction.

Ari’s been unusually quiet this whole time, staring down at his pizza with a quiet expression. He hasn’t even taken a bite yet.

Katy notices, narrowing her eyes at him, and Ari suddenly yelps. He bends down and rubs his leg. “Jesus, Katy, was that a kick or a punch?”

She rolls her eyes dismissively. “Bulk up, Ari,” she says. “Anyway, what’s up? You haven’t told us what you’re doing and the fact that it’s taken you this long to even speak is kind of concerning.”

He pauses, lips pressed into a thin line, before letting out a slow sigh. “I’m… not actually allowed to talk about what I’m doing.” That gets everyone’s attention. They all stop eating, just staring at him, and he lets out an awkward laugh as he shifts uncomfortably. “Well, I mean, I can’t tell you anything about it, but I _can_ tell you that I’m, uh…” he swallows hard. “I’m… working on the new US Constitution.”

The room is silent. Jake drops his fork and it clatters in his bowl. Katy’s mouth hangs open and she blinks a couple of times before she manages to speak. “A _new constitution_? What the _fuck_?”

“I _really_ can’t say anything more about it,” Ari says quickly. “Just that this is what the DOJ is doing and that we can’t talk about it. Though, I can say that Cory Booker has good taste in music.”

“So you and Cory Booker are writing the new constitution,” Jim says, leaning back in his seat.

Ari shakes his head. “No, not _just_ us, there are other people there too – but I can’t talk about it, seriously. The President doesn’t want people to influence us and our decisions while we’re doing this.”

Katy just looks at him. “But, wait,” she says, leaning over, “why are _you_ doing this? Are they writing or rewriting or –”

“Katy, I can’t answer.”

“Not even to me?”

An awkward silence ensues. Rachel and Dana exchange a look and they both slowly rise to their feet. “We should… go,” Dana says simply. Rachel nods and they give quick goodbyes as they head to the door.

Jim turns to Jake. “We should…”

“Yeah,” Jake says. He gets up too, and they leave Katy and Ari to their own devices. He wonders what they’ll talk about, but he doesn’t _need_ to know.

They’re back in the bedroom after getting ready for bed while Ari and Katy are _still_ at the dining table, and Jake is just about to sit down when Jim clears his throat.

“So,” he says, “I, um, got another blanket for us.”

Jake blinks. “Oh.” Oh of course he did. As though Jake thought he wouldn’t. Just because they were in the same room, sleeping on the same bed, that didn’t mean. Anything. It didn’t mean anything.

“Oh,” he says again. “That’s… that’s good. I guess we can sleep a little more comfortably on this small bed.”

“Yeah,” Jim nods. He plops the blanket on the bed and starts unfolding it, as Jake just sort of lies down. He pulls the blanket on and doesn’t close his eyes until he feels Jim in the bed and sees the lights shut off.

It takes a while for him to fall asleep, and he doesn’t really know why. Well, not exactly - there’s a good chance it’s all about anxiety for his new job, worry about what’s to come next, and unease about being away from the life he knows. It’s so strange, it’s all the same cast of characters but in roles that you did not expect. He doesn’t know how he feels about it.

Jim lets out a soft snore and Jake finally closes his eyes. He tries not to think too much.

And when he wakes up in the morning, just a general feeling of awareness, it’s to a strong sense of… comfort. He feels comforted, protected even, like there’s a warm feeling all around him and he’s pulling the feeling close and listening to its beat and…

He opens his eyes and realizes he’s cuddled up to Jim’s chest, feet tangled in his with secure arms keeping him close. It’s just like the morning before, except this time, there’s a second blanket somewhere on the floor. Jake feels his face heat up and he glances at Jim as he wakes. He starts flushing a little too.

“Oh,” he whispers, quietly. “I guess the bed really is just that small.”

Jake chuckles, softly, barely audible, but Jim smiles and they’re both just sort of cuddled together. When Jim exhales, Jake can feel it on his skin, heating him up even more.

 _His eyes are beautiful_ , Jake thinks, then wonders why he just thought that. And Jim is just looking at him, idle smile playing on his lips until they part and it looks like he’s going to speak.

There’s a quick knock on the door. “Breakfast time,” Ari hums cheerfully from outside. He knocks one more time for good measure before walking away.

Jake’s eyes dart from the door and back to Jim. “We should go,” he says. He’s still quiet. He has no idea why.

Jim nods. “Yeah,” he says, in the same tone. Neither of them move. They should but they just don’t.

It’s only when Ari comes back to knock again, shouting, “Look, I’m going to eat all the pancakes and then Rachel is gonna leave without you,” that they finally part. Jake feels a little cold when Jim finally lets go of him, but the smile he has on his face is enough to warm him up all over again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jake looks up when he hears a knock on the door and he quickly stands from his desk. “Eric Geller?” he asks the man who enters.

He smiles in return. “Jake Tapper.”

“Nice to finally meet you,” Jake hums. They shake hands and Eric carefully sits down across from him, watching as Jake folds away his files and pulls out a new sheet. “Okay, just for the sake of formality, could you tell me where you’re from?”

“D.C.,” Eric replies easily. He pauses for a second, then slaps his forehead. “Shit, I mean, DHS. Sorry about that.”

“It’s all right,” Jake smiles a little. “I get it, you’re probably not yet used to, you know, being a government employee and having to refer to yourself as one.”

Eric sighs. “No kidding – this is way more intense than it was at Politico.”

Jake laughs at that, mostly out of politeness, mostly just to make him ease up a little. “Don’t worry, I’ll try to make this easy as possible.” He pulls his glasses on and glances down at the papers again, before taking them off as he turns back to Eric. “First off, I think we should just briefly go over what your team at the DHS does, in the simplest terms possible.”

“Okay,” Eric says. He furrows his brow and thinks about it for a moment. “Okay, so do you know what the interior department does? And the DOD?”

“For the sake of this conversation, assume that I do.”

“Okay,” he nods again. “I guess you could say we’re cyber right now – we’re using all available resources to make sure that our cybersecurity is as close to flawless as we can get it. We know that when we’re, for the lack of a better term, ‘coming out’, the US is going to try and sabotage us any way they can, so a lot of what we’re doing is just preparing for that eventuality. But beyond that, we’re working a lot with other departments in a similar capacity.”

Eric talks and Jake listens, dutifully taking notes as they go along. He gets why they sent Eric – he’s good at dumbing down whatever they’re doing, but there’s a slight nervousness to his tone, a little anxiety. They’re talking about the real possibility of the government finding them and killing all of them and there’s real fear in his eyes. Jake can tell.

He holds up a hand to stop him. “Eric,” he says, then pauses. “Eric, do you like Star Wars?”

It takes Eric a couple of blinks to process Jake’s words. “I… I love Star Wars,” he says, slowly.

“Do you wanna talk about that instead, just for a bit?” He smiles when Eric nods, visibly relaxing as Jake sets aside his notes, and they just talk. Everyone needs a reprieve from madness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jake doesn’t bother with knocking, just steps right into the apartment. They got spare keycards _just_ for this occasion, so they wouldn’t have to keep bothering the other with texts and phone calls just for an extra copy of some files or something.

The lights are on but no one seems to be inside, and he walks over to the main table, scanning the papers scattered around until he finds the one he was looking for. Lucky it was right there, or otherwise, he’d have to start searching around in Rachel’s room or something.

And it’s just as he thinks this – or, perhaps, _because_ he thinks this – that he hears it. Something from one of the closed doors down in the corner. Soft murmurings and what he very clearly identifies as a choked sob. Oh, he shouldn’t, he really _shouldn’t_ walk over to where he thinks the sounds are coming from, he shouldn’t try to figure out who and why.

He doesn’t have to. Rachel’s voice comes out, muffled by the walls and he unintentionally strains his ears to hear what she says. “… Jonah’s going to be okay, don’t worry.”

It’s so hard to hear Dana’s voice but he thinks he hears her whisper, “You can’t know that.” And then, even quieter, even harder to make out, “What if I never see him again?”

“You will,” Rachel says, softly. “I promise.”

Jake doesn’t hear whatever Dana’s response is, he’s too busy trying to open the door without making a noise. His heart is clenching in his chest, breath suddenly shallow and uneven as he steps out into the hallway and just. stops.

It was not his moment to witness, and yet, he doesn’t think he’s ever going to be able to forget it. The sound of her voice echoes in his ears and the words, the meaning behind them, and dammit, it happens, he starts thinking about them. Jack and Alice, up in Canada, with Jen. Oh yes, they’re safe and sound and out of danger but.

What if he never sees them again?

He shuts the thought down before he can linger on it any further and heads back to his room – _their_ room. The others are right where he left them, sitting on the couches. Jim and Katy sit by Ari, lounging and casual, as he shuffles up a deck of cards.

“Now the trick is _not_ to lie,” he says.

Katy gives him a dead look. “Ari, the game’s literal name is BS.” She rolls her eyes, clearly trying to hold back a chuckle as the other two start to laugh, and she looks up at Jake. “Hey, change your mind about playing with us?”

Jake swallows hard. “Yeah,” he says, managing a smile. “Yeah, I think I’m ready to take a break.” He plops down beside Jim and at first, watches Katy try to pry the deck out of Ari’s hands and teach him how to play 21. But his gaze slowly dips down into his lap and then he thinks his vision starts to shake and –

And then there’s a hand on his leg, familiar and – and comforting. It’s comforting. Jim rests his hand on Jake’s leg and Jake turns to look at him. His face is full of concern. “Jake,” he says, “are you okay?”

Jake takes a breath, then lets it out. He shakes his head.

“Okay,” Jim says, still quiet. “Do you… do you want to talk about it?”

He shakes his head again.

“Okay.”

They both look away from each other, back at Katy and Ari, chuckling a little as the two of them start fighting before Jim finally takes the cards away from them and starts dealing them out. The game is long and stupid and they’re all, for whatever reason, _terrible_ at lying, but it’s enough for Jake to sink his soul back into his body and breathe.

But, he doesn’t miss it when Jim hugs him a little closer that night. And then it’s hard to breathe for a completely different reason.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Okay,” Rachel says. She’s looking around the room, at the others, and starts passing out the papers. “I know there’s only five of you and we all know each other, but for the sake of propriety, let me just hand these out myself.”

“Oh yeah, we all know each other,” Adam hums. “I hope someone gave David plenty of notebooks and plenty of time because as we all know, he doesn’t know how to type.”

“I know how to type, Adam,” David Fahrenthold huffs.

Abby gives him a look and Cecilia crosses her arms. “David, I’ve never seen you _near_ a computer.” She reaches out and touches his hand. “If you want, I can teach you how to type.”

“Guys,” David sighs, shaking his head as Jeff stifles a laugh. “I can’t believe literally _everyone_ is roasting me and we haven’t even started making our calls yet.”

“He’s right, we can get back to roasting him after,” Jake says, playfully ignoring David’s grumblings and groaning. He steps up over behind his desk and pulls open the Excel sheet. “All right, east coast to me, west to Rachel. Let’s try to get a good way through before lunch.”

The room quickly fills with the sounds of buttons being pressed and papers ruffling and people talking over each other.

“Olivia in Washington,” Jeff says, the first to report back, before starting to scribble down notes. “Wow, you’re kidding…”

Abby covers the receiver and catches Jake’s eye. “Maggie in New York – oh, what was that?” she uncovers the phone, then lets out a laugh. “She’s asking how long it would take Nate to run over if we turned this into a polling station instead.”

Jake rolls his eyes and smiles as he types down Maggie’s name and location. It’s comforting to see how many familiar names he ends up writing, how many people he knows that are out there, _alive_ , even if they’re far from safe.

If he doesn’t think about it, he can pretend that this is normal.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Sorry I’m late,” Jake says as he steps inside. “Adam hid David’s notebook and then we spent our breakfast hour looking for it.”

“Sounds like fun,” David hums, not unkindly, but distractedly as he scrolls through something on his laptop. “Just set the brief down here, I’ll send it in.”

He sets it down and is about to show himself out when he pauses. “Hey, Axe?”

David looks up from his computer and raises a brow. “Yeah?”

“Why did you all pick Hawai’i? I mean, there are plenty of other small islands where we could’ve had our base of operations, maybe even ones that could get people and supplies shipped here easier. Hell, Musk could just buy an island and no one would question it. And it would make our life so much easier when we officially announce ourselves – I don’t have to get into the specifics, but…” he shrugs. “I just want to know – why here?”

David doesn’t say anything for a couple of seconds, just staring right at him. And then, he says, “Sentimental reasons.”

Jake takes a couple of moments to think about it, eyes slowly widening with understanding. “Oh.” Now it all makes complete sense. He watches as David picks up the brief and gives it a quick skim.

“I see the fighting is dying down in Russia,” he hums, “and peace accords seem to be right around the corner.” He sets it down and shakes his head. “To think we were panicking about this a while ago.”

“That’s the problem with being a pundit,” Jake says. “It throws your perspective off on everything. Even war.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You know what your briefs remind me of?” Katy says, gesticulating at him with her fork. There’s a piece of pasta sticking on the end and Jake wonders if it’s going to fall off. “Politico Playbook.”

Jim nods, swallowing down his food. “Oh yeah, that’s _exactly_ what I was thinking of.”

“We did take a lot of inspiration from them,” Jake admits, “especially after we finally got in touch with Jake and Amanda. They’re in Baltimore now, apparently.” He looks over at the door. “Hey, no one invited Rachel and Dana?”

“They said they wanted a night in,” Jim shrugs. “I think they might be just tired tonight, you know?”

Katy just nods, a little absently. Her eyes are focused on Ari across from her, as he chews quietly. It’s always a little unnerving to see him so dejected, so torn, when he can’t even tell them why. She clears her throat. “Ari?”

Ari drops his fork and sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just so stressful,” he says. “I mean, fuck, we have to rebuild everything from the ground up and sure, we’re all legal experts and we’re all pretty intelligent but this is a whole ‘nother level – we are revising the United States _Constitution_ , the damn _Bill of Rights_ , trying to find that middle ground between freedom for all and protection for all and all these different things, and –”

He stops talking. Not by choice, but because Katy’s leaned over and cupping his face as she kisses him. It’s not particularly long, just a quick kiss right on the lips, but she lingers as she pulls away and sits back down. There’s a beat of silence as no one says anything. She clears her throat. “You freak out _way_ too much about this,” she says. “Just relax, okay?”

Ari just stares. No one says anything.

Finally, Jim clears his throat. “So… we should just ignore the fact that I saw this coming for weeks?” He laughs a little when Ari sputters, nearly dropping his food all over himself while Katy just rolls her eyes and blushes. Jake’s laughing a little too because wow, look at that, everyone is _happy_ for once and isn’t that a good thing? Even if the circumstances aren’t the best and the situation isn’t perfect and, truthfully, nothing feels real. Katy kissed Ari, Rachel comforts Dana, and…

Jim’s eyes meet his and his grin grows. Jake just smiles back.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Only David is in the room when they go to meet with Obama. Everyone else has gone back to their own homes (home? when did he start thinking of that hotel suite as home? well, actually, it doesn’t really matter, does it, because it is sort of his new home) and it feels a little ominous when it’s just the four of them alone in a tiny room. Obama sits behind a desk, David standing over to the side, as Jake and Rachel take their seats.

“I wanted to tell you this in person,” Obama says, carefully. “In a few weeks, we’re going to be officially announcing our existence as the provisional government.” There’s a heavy pause and he takes a moment before continuing. “We’ll go over the specific details once we get there, but there’s something we need to establish first.

“We can’t dismantle your newsroom, we’re going to be needed that a lot in the coming months,” he continues, “but we also need a dedicated PR office now, one that’s solely for us to get out our message.”

“You’re asking one of us to run that, I’m assuming?” Rachel asks.

David nods. “Like the President just said, one of you will need to keep running the newsroom. But, well, a former journalist is as good as anyone to become a nation’s spokesperson.” He crosses his arms. “Either of you up to it?”

They open their mouths at the same time, but Jake speaks first. “Rachel,” he says. “She’s better at communicating than I am, more widely recognized, and people trust her.” He looks over at her and sees her looking at him, a little exasperated and a little fond. He smiles. “You should do it.”

A counterargument is clearly forming in her mind but he sees it dissipate the moment she sighs. She knows he’s right. She shakes her head and looks from him, to David, to Obama. “Okay,” she says. “What do you need me to do?”

“We’ll discuss the details in the morning,” Obama says. “David will help you assemble a team and get you whatever you need to start drafting up our initial statements.” He stands up and they stand with him, and there’s a certain grandiosity to it that fills Jake’s chest with something that feels like cement. Here he is, in the face of history. It’s a humbling thought.

And then Obama turns around, hand on the doorknob, and says, “I’m certain you’ll do great, Rachel.” And then he leaves.

There’s a pause, and then Rachel slides back into her seat. She shakes her head for a few seconds, then just sighs, “ _Fuck_.”

“Eloquent,” David hums, and he chuckles along when Jake and Rachel start to laugh.

When they break the news to everyone else – with permission, of course, because they’re not going to jeopardize Rachel’s newly minted job like this – there’s no immediate response. Expressions are a little downcast but no one looks particularly surprised. As they shouldn’t be – they knew something like this was coming, they had to be prepared for something like this.

“We all knew this would happen,” Dana says. She leans into Rachel’s arms, sighing a little. “But… I don’t think it ever really sunk in, did it?”

“Nothing felt real,” Jim admits. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “It just… it never really sunk in that all of this was real.” Jake reaches out and gives his hand a tight squeeze, and Jim squeezes back.

Ari stands up. “All right, I’m gonna see if we can requisition some alcohol. After all,” he looks around at the rest of them, smiling lightly, “we shouldn’t have to accept reality sober, should we?”

“No,” Katy says. She stands up with him. “No, we shouldn’t.”

They end up staying awake for the rest of the night, drinking cheap beer from cans and just sitting around each other, on the couches and the floor, talking about everything but what the future will bring. It reminds Jake a lot of those long nights in hotel rooms and it takes him a while to realize – he can’t tell any of their clothes apart anymore.

He doesn’t mind.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jake leaves late, on one of the last nights they have as an underground resistance government. Sure, he’s got the next day off to rest before the news will explode, but the work really doesn’t end and he didn’t feel comfortable leaving until he was sure he could.

He’s barely left the building when he catches sight of Jim leaning against a wall, looking around absently. He nearly jumps when he sees Jake, quickly walking over. “Oh, hey, I was waiting for you.”

“Really?” Jake blinks. “But – we were going to see each other at home anyway.”

“I know,” Jim says. He’s smiling a little, nervously rubbing the back of his head. “But, well… that week where you were on a different time zone, we all went to the beach and you couldn’t go with us… I wanted to take you there.”

“Oh,” Jake says. He’s blinking again. Jim looks so earnest. “Oh. Um…” he pauses, sighing a little. “Actually, I don’t really feel like going to the beach, but… mind walking home with me?”

For a second, Jim looks a little. sad, enough that Jake feels it in his chest. But then he smiles again and nods slowly. “Okay,” he says. “Whatever you want, Jake.” He holds out his arm and with anyone else, Jake would’ve thought this was a little joke, just something extra and a little fun. And maybe it still is, but…

Jake takes his arm and they walk.

The night is quiet, the air still, not many people outside, it’s just the two of them. Him and him and the moon hanging above. If Jake looks at him from the corner of his eye, Jim looks like he’s glowing. But, he doesn’t do that too often because he’d. rather look at him completely, his whole attention on him.

“Things are different when the world might end,” Jake says, a long while later. “Aren’t they?”

“Yeah,” Jim nods. “Yeah, they are. Nothing’s the way it usually is. I know I’m not.” He lets out a slow breath, and his hand slowly slides down until it’s holding Jake’s, almost casually, but there’s nothing casual about it.

“I feel like I’m a different person,” he continues. “And I don’t know how I feel about it.”

“I don’t mind it,” Jake says, but it comes out like a whisper. He’s usually whispering now, when he’s alone with Jim, as though it feels like pillow talk. He parts his lips slightly and says, “I don’t mind you.”

Jim’s mouth quirks. “I don’t mind you either.”

There’s a couple of seconds of silence where Jake can only hear his heartbeat. They’ve stopped, somewhere along the way. Jim is looking right at him, one side of his face in the light and the other covered in shadow but his smile, bright as the stars. He smiles a lot. Jake doesn’t mind that either.

He closes his eyes first and they meet halfway, in the space between. Jim’s lips are soft, so soft, and his fingers brush up against Jake’s jaw, just there, curling into his hair as he just. leans into the touch. It’s warm, it’s nice, it’s comforting. Like life is just being breathed into him.

They pull away, slowly, but not enough that Jake can’t feel his presence. He doesn’t open his eyes yet.

“Hi,” Jim whispers, quietly.

“Hi,” Jake sighs, softly. He feels himself smile, he can’t stop, he’s almost laughing and he feels Jim holding his shoulders and kissing the side of his mouth. His thumb brushes over the corners of his eyes.

“We don’t have to do anything,” he says. “Okay?”

“Okay.” His voice cracks at the end and Jake isn’t sure why. He still hasn’t opened his eyes yet. Maybe he’s afraid to.

Somehow, they make it back to the room. Jake’s eyes are mostly closed and he doesn’t look at Jim. He doesn’t want to risk it. Something about him makes it so hard to breathe. Doors open and close, he doesn’t hear anyone speak, Jim has an arm on his waist and if Jake concentrates, he can hear his heartbeat.

He doesn’t open his eyes until he feels himself slowly settling into the mattress and the first thing he sees is Jim looking down at him. He smiles. “You missed out on a lot,” he hums, quietly teasing.

Jake just laughs a little, rolling his eyes and shaking his head until tears start streaming down his cheeks and the laughs turn into sobs and he’s having trouble breathing again. And Jim lies down beside him. He lets him rest against his chest and runs his fingers through his hair and whispers, “It’s going to be okay.”

And maybe that’s not how Jake wanted this to go, maybe he wanted it to go a little differently – soft kisses and tangled limbs and quiet sighs as they breathe each other in, but. Isn’t this what he needs?

All anyone really needs is someone to tell them that everything is going to be okay. Especially if it won't be.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s only when it’s two am, eastern standard time, that they’re all finally able to put down their phones. No one talks immediately, especially not about what they were just talking about. Jake’s brain might turn to literal mush if he does. He stretches out his fingers as watches Jeff takes a sip from an empty coffee cup.

“You know that’s empty, right?” Cecilia asks.

Jeff shrugs. “I’m honestly too tired to care.”

“In that case, pass some over to me too.” She holds out her hand and he pretends to pour some out for her. Jake can’t even comprehend what he’s seeing, he really doesn’t know what to do except shake his head and smile.

David, who’s been sitting and staring out into the distance for god knows how long, suddenly turns back and looks at them. “You know I love you all, right?”

Abby rolls her eyes. “We love you too,” she hums. “Now go back to sleep.” She pretends to throw a pen at him and he doesn’t even flinch.

And then, suddenly, a phone rings. Adam lifts his face from his desk and picks it up. “Yeah?” he yawns. Suddenly, his eyes widen and he sits up, blinking rapidly. “You’re shitting me. You’re absolutely fucking shitting me…”

Everyone seems to be sitting up now, listening in intently. Adam isn’t writing anything down, though, just listening and shaking his head. “This is… fuck, okay, call me back as soon as possible. As soon as you get more information, I need you to call me back, okay?” He nods as he sets the phone down, then just stares at it.

Finally, Jake clears his throat. “Um… care to share with the class, Adam?”

“Oh, right,” Adam says. He takes a deep breath. “It seems… it seems as though that Alexei Navalny is now the President of Russia.”

There’s a sharp clatter as Jeff drops his mug, and no one watches it shatter on the floor. It’s complete silence until Jake sighs. “Why the fuck is it always Russia?”


End file.
